Difference in Upbringing
by Gandr
Summary: Byleth is alerted to a situation involving the newly recruited Bernadetta and finds herself confronting emotions she was previously unable to express.


Another day of going over lesson plans, goals for student growth, mission preparations loomed over Professor Byleth as she sighed, resting her head in one hand as she scribbled a few notes on Sylvain's notes; surprisingly not about his ventures with the opposite sex. The change from Mercenary to Teacher, while an odd one, turned out to be something that gave her something to look forward to. These students were bright and never gave her a shortage of entertainment. Garreg Mach was as peaceful as it could be, if you dont count the occasional spat between friends or putting down bandits in the Foldan countryside. That is until the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps followed by the large door to the Blue Lions classroom slammed open. Byleth jerked her head to face the sound, slightly annoyed. Can't people open a door without slamming it?

"Professor!" It was Lysithea, the new addition to her class. Any sense of annoyance was quickly dismissed when she saw how out of breath the Mage was, the panicked look on her face signaling something very, very wrong. It took little time for her to cross the room as the student continued to speak, "Professor, come quick! It's Bernadetta!"

Lysithea didn't have much time to explain, as the dark haired woman had already left the room, quickly making her way to Bernadetta's room. She had visited her several times before, even after recruiting her to join her class. It took some effort not to break out into a full on sprint; you never wanted to waste your stamina recklessly, after all. Looking to her side, she noticed that Dimitri, Felix and Ingrid were close behind her, wordlessly nodding, either someone went and told them as well, or they overheard Lysithea. Rushing down the grassy pathway, she all but launched down the stairs that lead to the lower part of the Monastery, leading to the Dormitories, and the sight before her incited a feeling of pure fury within her: a small group of knights surrounded the open door to Bernadetta's room, and a larger man had his hand around her arm, trying to yank her from her quarters as she struggled and protested.

"_HEY!_" The sudden sound of the Professor's voice caused them to stop, onlookers and those involved turning to the source of the sudden yelling and she was met with a scowl to match her own, this man's grip on the girls arm still firm and unrelenting. "What the _HELL _do you think you're doing?!"

"Stay out of this. This is family business, commoners such as yourself need not interfere." The words were spat out in disgust, as if it were a crime for the former mercenary, this commoner, to even be speaking to him in such a way.

"Too bad, because I don't give a shit. Get damn your hands off of my student. _Now_." Byleth growled, her expression one of intense, barely contained fury. She knew who this man was, she remembered the stories Bernie told her about the terrible things he did to her, the long lasting damage he inflicted for the sake of making her a 'perfect wife' so he could end up marrying her off for monetary gain.

"How dare you! I will no-" his protest was cut off when Byleth closed the gap between them in a few steps, grabbing his wrist and twisting it hard. He gave a sharp cry of surprise and pain, and his grip loosened, the frightened girl pulled away by Ingrid, who held onto her protectively. The Professor's eyes locked onto his, burning with contempt and fury for this poor excuse of a man in front of her. Byleth was about to speak again, but another sound rang through the air like cannon fire.

_**SLAP**_

The sharp sound of a slap echoed off the walls, and though she didn't know it at the time, Felix had to restrain Dimitri from attacking Count Varley himself. Her fingertips touched her now red cheek, and the realization of what just happened had dawned on her. The bastard actually reeled back and struck her with the back of his hand as hard as he could. How many times had he done the same thing to his daughter, who was smaller and not as resilient as she was?

"Unhand me, you filthy whore, I-" The knights had been too intimidated by the threatening glares of Dimitri and Felix to stop Byleth from swinging her fist and punching him hard in the mouth in retaliation. As he stood there stunned, she took this opportunity to slam her knee into his stomach, following up with a viscous uppercut, the sound of his teeth slamming into each other making some of the onlookers wince. Grabbing him by the collar, the former Mercenary slammed him into the brick wall of the dormitory.

"You listen to me, and you listen good, you piece of wyvern shit," She hissed through gritted teeth, "If you ever come near Bernadetta, or try anything like this again, I _will_ kill you."

"She is," He replied, through wheezing breaths, glaring at this woman before him, feeling a mixture of anger and humiliation to be so brutalized by some commoner, finding the strength to spit out the following words, "My child. My daughter. As her Father, I must ensure our bloodline stays strong, that is her responsibility! She must obey everything I say, that is her only purpose!"

"..." Byleth remained quiet, but still held her grip on him, ensuring he wasn't getting away anytime soon. A quick glance behind her reassured her that Ingrid had taken Bernadetta away from this area. There was no need for her to witness any of this, after all. His words replayed in her mind, dredging up memories of being raised by her own father, Jeralt. A man who unconditionally loved her. Protected her. Taught her to defend herself. Gave her the best life he knew how to. She was his entire world, and loved her very much, even if for the longest time, she couldn't express it in return.

_She has to obey him?_

_She's nothing but property to him? A thing to be married off for financial gain?_

_Just because of her Crest?_

"HOW DARE YOU!" Even the most ferocious of monsters would flee in terror from the sheer amount of ferocity and fury in her voice.

_How dare he claim to be a father._

_He had no right to claim such a title!_

A pathetic cry came from the noble as Professor Byleth's clenched fist smashed into his face again, followed by the sickening cracking of a nose breaking, cartilage shattering from the force of her blow, blood flowing from his face, staining his clothes.

_"WHAT KIND OF FATHER ARE YOU?!"_ Another strike, harder than the last, giving no chance of a counter attack as everyone continued to watch as she pummeled the Count, _"HOW DARE YOU CLAIM TO BE ANY KIND OF PARENT! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A BASTARD! A COWARD!"_

Another strike, the sound echoing off the walls as no one dared speak, or even move for fear of this rage being turned onto them. Again, and again, eliciting only pathetic moans and whimpers from the man who minutes prior was talking a big game, now at the mercy of an extremely angry teacher who had no intention of showing any mercy to a man who thought of his own child as property, something to use and discard. More sound of breaking bones mixing into the echoes of savage, painful blows.

_"YOU'LL PAY FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE!"_ Arm back, fist clenched, Byleth prepared for the final strike, but suddenly she felt someone grab her arm, gripping it hard, tight, as if they knew if they loosened their hold, she would let the brutal strike fly, tightening as she still attempted to break free.

"That's enough, kid." It was Jeralt. Her father, a man who compared so starkly to the whimpering mess in front of her it was like night and day. His tone was stern, the tone he used when she got into trouble as a child as was about to be scolded. She looked back, her features softening, though her eyes still conveyed the anger her features had expressed moments prior, "If you keep this up, he'll die. Stand down. Now."

Growling in frustration, she flung him away from her, as if disgusted to even be touching him at this point, glaring down at him, at this pathetic sight. Several of his teeth lay scattered on the ground, and she suspected he likely swallowed most of the others she knocked loose. Count Varley wobbled and staggered as the knights who came with him quickly helped him to his feet, slowly making their way to the infirmary.

"You there," Jeralt turned, addressing on of the Knights of Seiros who came with him to investigate the disturbance, "Make sure the Count gets the treatment he needs for his injuries, and then arrest him."

"Sir?" The response was a shocked one, "Arrested for what?"

Even Byleth was surprised, but Jeralt shrugged, "The way I see it, the Count was attempting to kidnap one of the students of this Academy and was intercepted by a Professor who had to take action to protect her student."

As soon as the knight hurried off to carry out his orders, Jeralt turned to his daughter, who seemed to be calming down, arms crossed, "You took it too far. Do you realize that I may not have been able to save you from being arrested for murdering a noble? A prison cell is not where I want my daughter to end up. What the hell was that?"

"...I'm sorry." Was the reply, the remaining students making their way away from the scene after giving statements to the Seiros Knights, "Seeing him hurt his child like that, talk about her worth being only to be married off...it set something off in me."

"..." he sighed, shaking his head before giving a small smile, "You're definitely my kid, but think next time. Get out of here, attend to your students."

Later that night, there would be a new entry in Jeralt's diary.

_Etheral Moon, 1180_

"_In these past few months, Byleth has begun to outwardly express her emotions more and more. I'm not sure why, maybe because of the students._

_She surprised me today. One of her students was caught up in what we officially called a failed kidnapping, and I assume she was informed about it around the same time as I was, but since she was closer to the scene it makes sense she arrived first._

_What surprised me was how angry she was, and the reasons why. This man, Count Varley, is apparently a reprehensible man who abuses his daughter, and if I had to venture a guess she felt incredibly angry that someone could be so terrible to their own child. It might not have always been easy, but I did my best to give her a good life, so maybe the contrast was too unacceptable to her._

_I might not be a perfect father, but it makes me happy that she holds me in such high regard._

_I'm just glad Lady Rhea looked the other way, though I'm not sure why._

_Also, I can honestly say I never want to be on the receiving end of one of her punches. That girl is surprisingly strong."_


End file.
